The Nature of the Beast
by Sapsorrow86
Summary: Australian Biologist and animal behaviour expert Belle French goes into the African jungle hoping to relocate as many animals as possible before mining destroys the ecosystem. What she finds there, however, is much more than she ever expected. (Tarzan AU)
1. Chapter 1

Sangala was located deep in the heart of the African continent. It wasn't a particularly large country but it was rich in resources, flora and fauna, all mostly untouched still. Most of the land was covered by thick, tropical jungle, and it would all be gone in a couple of months, to enable Mills Inc. to exploit the tungsten deep within the soil. The contracts were already sign, the local government more than happy to accept a cut of the profits for allowing its land to be violated and polluted and, no matter the amounts of protests back in the company's HQ in New York nothing had stopped Regina Mills from getting what she wanted.

She was there, overseeing the preparations, in the comfort of a plantation house leased to her so she could exert her control without it getting in the way of her plush living. Everyone else got more simple accommodations. Even Whale, their expert geologist and all around playboy mad scientist, couldn't boast of similar quarters, though the lab and other facilities set up for his use were top of the line and the envy of Belle's more modest quarters. In the totem pole, of course, Whale the star-boy scientist well suppressed the Australian animal behaviourist there only to comply with regulations and make sure most of the animals living in the zone were safely transported to reserves and zoos. It was mostly for the sake of PR but Dr French didn't question it. It was the best chance these animals could have at surviving and she'd made her peace with it.

Hers was the smallest team, made up primarily by Ariel Benson, her research assistant, Humbert Graham, who had a way with animals that was incredible, and several other animal wranglers and vets. It couldn't compare with either Whale's parade of scientists and researchers or Gaston March's veritable army of men at arms, all hailing from private security firms, AliedBarton and the like. They, specially, made Belle nervous. Rough, undisciplined and armed at all times they were lewd and only respected their superiors. Everyone else had to watch their backs around them. Thankfully Gaston, for all his idiocy and boorishness, was disciplined, a former marine, and knew how to control his troops.

Whale's staff strutted around like they were privileged and the good doctor himself commandeered most of the shared resources, from equipment to local employees. Belle and her team had to fight for every scrap of help and money, which made their job all the more arduous. It was worth it, in the end. Sangala had a great diversity of animals, most of which were in the endangered species list of close to it, and though the process of capturing them, checking their health, getting them placed and prepared for transportation was hard, it was important too.

They key to her work, she'd discovered at some point, was getting out of Whale and Gaston's way. Use whatever she could get- the local hires preferred to work with her, thankfully, since neither Whale nor Gaston treated them with respect or decency- make as much progress as possible and try not to pass out in her little hut at the end of the day. Though she loved the idea of exploring the jungle she didn't have much time to leave the perimeter of their makeshift camp, having to oversee everything. The wranglers, sometimes led by Graham and others by Lance Knight, a former hunter turned animal protectionist after some unpleasantness back in the day. She mostly stayed in the compound making sure the animals were housed in adequate conditions, were regularly checked by veterans and showed no signs of distress or aggression while they waited to be assigned new homes. Though most of the animals were not particularly dangerous- pygmy chimps, sable antelopes, zebras, okapis, oribis, elands and the like- Sangala was home to civets, jackals and African Golden Lions as well as gorillas, though their numbers were all very low, no doubt due to illegal hunting.

Her day, as it was, started at dawn and ended long after the sun had set. It was gruelling, even if Ariel's friendly chatter and quirky humour did make it go faster. She was a bubbly girl with a sincere appreciation for animals, though she was thinking of going into marine biology, preferring sea creatures to land ones. She gave all the animals names, no matter how little they were staying, and always remembered them. She was a bit clueless but she more than made up for it with hard work and a willingness to learn.

Belle, on the other hand, was much more subdued. Not one to attract attention, but with a quiet air of authority that people responded to as well as a genuine passion for animals. She was fascinated by them and the way they could communicate without words, using a language that was partly encoded in their DNA. Belle herself was addicted to books so it had always intrigued her to think of communicating without the use of words.

She'd studied at the University of Melbourne before getting a scholarship to complete her graduate studies at UCLA, attaining various research grants before deciding to dedicate her time to animal rescue and work with reservations. A lot of that worked involved getting in bed with the unlikeliest of devils, like her work with Mills Incorporated, but she'd made her peace with it a long time ago. A little pragmatism to temper idealism was a good thing, she'd learned.

The work itself was a gruelling one and most of the time Belle kept close to her team and tried to ignore both the hired muscle running around with guns and the prancing peacocks of Dr Whale's team, acting high and mighty like their boss was the second coming. It was particularly funny to see him attempt to prance around in lab coats in a humid, hot climate where extra layers were a poor choice and nothing stayed white for long. Belle herself had simple cotton blouses and tops and shorts or airy, linen pants, loose and comfortable. Ariel had commandeered them a large tub in which to do laundry, since working with animals made keeping clean a struggle and their budget for linens, bandages and the like was limited as it was.

But, all in all, Belle enjoyed the work, particularly the pygmy chimps, which she made sure to visit each night before going to sleep. Ariel would join her usually, giving her one last update as to the status of the animals before retiring herself to a hut she shared with a fellow research assistant, Ruby Lowell, who had the most curious sort of kinship with the jackals and was as silly as she was helpful, lighting up the mood considerably wherever she went, not to mention managing to find out the best drinking spots whenever they went to town on temporary leave.

Surprisingly, though Ruby was the one to feed her all the gossip that their group could possibly provide, it was Ariel the one to give her the exciting news, gesticulating madly the way only she could make endearing.

"They found a beast-man, Belle!"

Though Ariel made a big deal about everything- one of the reasons Belle liked her too much, her contagious enthusiasm- it was clear from the get-go that this was, indeed, big news. From what her assistant had heard from one of the men who worked for Gaston they'd been accompanying some of Whale's people deep inside the jungle to take some samples of the soil or something of the like when they'd come across what they thought at first was some sort of gorilla. Eager for a bit of sport Gaston had taken half the men with him to chase the animal hoping, Ariel theorized, to present it to Belle herself bound and gagged, some sort of psychotic present. Belle shuddered, making a mental note to stress to Gaston that only her team was allowed to handle the animals at all, whether in the wild or in the cages. Her animal wranglers were all highly recommended people without an ounce of meanness in them.

Apparently they chased the animal into some sort of cave, catching mere glimpses of it in the thick foliage of the forest. Inside, cornered and without a hiding place, it'd been quickly caught. The men had been amazed to find that the creature they'd been chasing was naught but a man, scrawny and small compared to most of them, with long hair that looked like it'd never been combed, a bushy beard and no clothes whatsoever. He was dirty and tanned, his skin covered in scrapes and half-healed injuries. When cornered, apparently, he lashed out violently, with a superhuman strength Ariel was very suspicious of. It took five men to bring him down, howling like a madman and attempting to scratch and bite at all turns.

It took two animal tranquilizers to immobilize him and bring him safely to their little camp, Whale taking an interest the moment he saw the wild man. He'd asked Mrs Mills for the opportunity to study the new arrival, promising it wouldn't interfere with his other duties. Out in the middle of nowhere in a country whose political stability was questionable, Regina Mills was Queen of the castle, and her word was law. She'd magnanimously granted her permission and Whale was now, apparently, playing mad scientist to a deranged, dangerous beast.

"They say he can't speak and has no human-like qualities at all. A regular Tarzan."

Though she could understand Ariel's excitement over the story- it was quite the event, after all- Belle couldn't help but feel a prickle of uneasiness over the whole affair. The idea of Gaston hunting a man, however wild, was bad enough but Whale studying him sounded... bad. She wouldn't leave the man alone with one of her animals for all the money in the world- unless, of course, it was one of the jackals or an African golden cat, of course- much less with a fragile human being, however aggressive.

Tales of the wild man Whale had sequestered away somewhere soon flooded the compound. The good doctor himself seemed to have acquired, overnight, the worst case of white man's burden she'd ever seen, talking about how he wished to bring civilization and reason to the savage under his care. Gaston, of course, was more of the idea that the savage should be beaten out of the man, and Whale didn't seem opposed to such lengths, which troubled Belle somewhat.

The more the men talked about the creature the more fearsome it appeared to be, indomitable and aggressive to the extreme. Nothing that could ever be proven, since the "creature" was kept in isolation in... accommodations designed by Whale himself, out of everyone's sight. Belle, though curious by nature and still feeling something awful in the pit of her stomach whenever she thought about the man from the jungle, was too busy relocating animals and distributing resources to care for the ones still in her care to give much thought to the matter. During the day, specially, there was always chaos around her, a crisis or two to avert, people vying for her attention, needing her signature or a question answered at all times.

The night was quieter, which was why she spent it checking on the animals. Though she trusted her staff she couldn't help but double check injuries and see that everyone under her care was well-fed and as comfortable as possible. It was while cooing at one of the pygmy chimps, soon to be shipped to a reserve, that she heard it: a wail so pitiful, so desperate and bleak it made her tremble. It also made the animals uneasy to the extent that Belle thought it her duty to see where it was coming from. At first she thought it might be one of the jackals, or a civet, but soon she realized it wasn't coming from her side at all, rather from Whale's. Arming herself with her bravery she silently made her way to the doctor's facilities, trying not to notice how better equipped they were compared to hers. Thankfully not a soul seemed to be still out and about and though it was all mostly dark there was one part of the lab flooded with light taking advantage of the connection to the plantation's generator.

At first all she saw was an empty room through a plexi-glass window, the space obviously a lab turned bedroom with a cot, a table, two chairs and little else. The stark white light made it all the more jarring but it helped her finally notice the... thing huddled in a corner, behind the bed. Though it was dressed in what appeared stiff scrubs it was dirty, the skin tanned beneath the grime. A curtain of hair obscured his face and his entire body language screamed "Fear". The creature- the man- was terrified, an animal cornered that knew fighting was not an option.

Though Belle had never felt the need for children her work with animals had nurtured her mothering side, her innate compassion exacerbating it. In the face of such despair, such hopelessness, she couldn't look away. Slowly she turned her body to the side so she wasn't confronting him directly, lowering herself to the floor and sitting down so she didn't tower over him. She avoided eye-contact at all costs and tried to relax as much as possible. It felt like ages before the man inside the room moved at all, lifting his head to look at her properly. She noticed that, though they hadn't bathed him, they'd shaved him, no doubt to examine him more thoroughly. Fresh razor cuts adorned his nose and cheeks, making her struggle to keep her composure.

When sufficient time had passed she softly began to hum, the song an old lullaby her mother would sing to her when she was small, without words or any apparent meaning but quite soothing. He appeared to find it curious as well as calming and, tentatively, he crawled out of his hiding spot, keeping close to the bed to, no doubt, be able to hide under it at the slightest provocation. Now that she could see his entire body she was appalled to notice how malnourished he was. Light as a feather, with scrawny arms and legs and a sunken look about his face. She slowly scanned the room, looking for anything that indicated they were feeding him at all and saw, on a corner, a metal plate with a cut of meat, raw and untouched even though the man inside was clearly starving. The meat didn't look like it was rotten or in any way unappealing but it clearly held no interest for the man.

When she glanced at him again he was closer than before, though still retaining a defensive stance. He was, however, looking at her, which she considered a positive sign. She allowed her eyes to make contact with his for a second or so before lowering them again. She cooed and crooned nonsense at him, becoming increasingly convinced that there had never been a man-beast, only a scared little soul left to suffer first at the hands of Gaston and then Whale. Proof of that was how he crawled closer and closer to her after she'd shown him an ounce of kindness, smiling when she did so and, tentatively, reaching out to the glass.

A moment later he tensed, looked somewhere behind her and dashed back into his hiding place, shaking like a leaf. Understanding he must have heard something she hadn't she stop up quickly and made her way out of the facility, trying not to bump into anyone on the way to her hut. She slept fitfully, dreaming of the man's deep brown eyes, scared like an animal's but with a spark of... something there. Though she was distracted throughout the day no one gave the impression of noticing it, Ariel being too in the clouds to call her out on it. At night, when no one was watching, she snuck into Whale's side of the compound again, carrying some of the fruit that was always available to feed both the staff and the animals. Armed with a theory and the fear that Whale might let the man starve to death she made her way to the still-illuminated room from before, wondering if the lights were kept on at night on purpose for research purposes.

It was easier to spot him this time around, knowing his hiding spot. She tapped gently on the plexi-glass to gain his attention, smiling at him before lowering her gaze so as to not be perceived as a threat. It took much less time than before for him to approach her cautiously, keeping close to the ground and near the bed. She crooned nonsense at him, the pitch of her voice much more important than whatever she was saying. Finally, when he was close enough, she scooted over to the glass door, opening the tray slot to offer a ripe peach. At first the man shied away from the offering but as the scent of the fruit hit his nose he staggered closer, snatching the food from her and scooting back quickly. He devoured the fruit once he was a safe distance away, making faint moaning noises as he fed for the first time in days.

She offered him a pear next and he took it promptly from her before devouring it with enthusiasm, accepting another one from her when she offered. As much as it looked like he needed it she didn't let him eat any more, knowing his stomach would have to gradually adjust to healthy food portions after a period of hunger. He seemed less prone to trembling after being fed, regarding her now with cautious interest.

She came the next night with more fruit, pleased when he approached her immediately and didn't feel the need to scoot away in order to eat. She observed his body language as he fed, her behaviourist mind analysing every gesture. Though he appeared to have been abandoned in the jungle at a young age and grown up without human contact at all he looked as though he recognized she was like him and was curious about her. He also behaved in a submissive way, further proving that the tall tales Gaston, Whale and the others had been telling had no basis. He wasn't aggressive at all, quite the contrary. Sensitive and in desperate need of care and too frightened all the time.

She kept to her new task for three more nights before Ariel finally caught on. She confronted her while on an outing into town, which happened every few weeks. Though most of the members of her staff were happily getting drunk and enjoying their little bit of freedom. Belle, however, couldn't stop thinking of the man going hungry inside that sterile, horrible room just because she was on leave.

"Ok, Miss Boss, you've been out of it for days, keeping some sordid little secret. I've pretended not to notice long enough. 'fess up."

Though she seemed flighty Belle knew Ariel wouldn't relent till she told her. And, frankly, it'd be a relief to confide in someone and her assistant was completely trustworthy. Once she began her tell she found she couldn't stop, spilling it all out in one go. Ariel, of course, found it incredibly fascinating and sad at the same time. The girl had a good heart.

"And you haven't been able to get close enough to assess his condition? It sounds like Doctor Frankenstein isn't taking care of him at all."

Belle took a sip of her daiquiri, the rum burning her throat pleasantly.

"I'd need a key for that, since they keep him locked. I don't see why. He's a gentle soul, you can see it in his eyes."

She shouldn't have been so surprised when, a few days later, Ariel presented her with a key, telling her a vague story about using her "siren-like charms" on Whale to divest him of his key set and, thanks to his freakish need to tag everything, locating the one that opened the creature's "cage" easily. She'd had managed to find someone willing to make a copy in the middle of the night, using those powers of persuasion she was famous for, and had had plenty of time to sneak the keys back to Whale's pocket without him noticing they were missing at all. Belle thought, not for the first time, that it was really lucky that Ariel was a force of good.

When he saw her approach from afar he didn't approach the glass but he didn't shy away either, something that filled her with happiness. At first she took her usual spot by the tray slot and fed him fruit- he preferred pears above all- watching as he devoured the treats and licked his fingers. He looked less gaunt and far less frightened than when she'd first met him and it was that last detail that gave her the courage to use the key to slowly open the plexi-glass door and slip inside the room. When he noticed she was no longer on the other side of the glass he retreated to his hiding spot at first, not scared but cautious. Belle sat down near the bed, folding her legs and relaxing as much as possible. Then she fished out an apple from her basket of fruits- a rare treat since there weren't any apple trees in the region but Mrs Mills had insisted on getting fresh apples regularly- and cutting it in half. She bit into one of the pieces and extended the other one towards her companion. At first he merely watched her eat, head cocked to the side and his body in a state of constant alertness. Slowly, so slowly that she missed it at first- he began to relax, his curiosity surpassing his fear. He approached her cautiously, extending a hand to grasp the apple half she was offering. She was glad to notice he didn't feel the need to go back to his corner in order to eat it and was charmed by the pleased little sound he let out when he took a bite of the fruit.

He polished off two more halves Belle gave him, seeming to savour the last one with particular care. Seeing his shoulders weren't tense and his general posture spoke of relaxation she took a chance and softly petted his hair, hopelessly tangled and dirty, happy when he didn't immediately retreat. After a while he even leaned into the caress, looking awed. It was then that Belle realized he'd never been lovingly touched before.

"Oh, sweetheart..."

He responded to her sad little croon with a pitiful noise, scooting closer so she could reach more of him. Soon he was almost sitting on her lap, burrowing against her and sniffing her neck while she kneaded his nape. She stayed as long as she could, trying to notice as much as possible. Up close it was easier to see all the fresh cuts and bruises and the way the coarse and stiff polyester clothing he was wearing irritated his skin and made him uneasy. It was clear he didn't use the bed, and the cold, hard floor was no place for restful sleep, especially with constant light at all times. Softly she kissed his cheek, determined to do something for him and soon.

"I'll be back. I promise."

The way he clutched the back of her shirt when she stood up almost made her cry.

* * *

Though usually Belle avoided the plantation house like it was the plague she made an exception the following day, all but barging in to see her employer. Her sycophant assistant, Sydney Glass, all but threw himself on her to try and bar her from his employer's office, to no avail. Regina Mills was an imposing woman, sleek as a panther and mean as only humans could be, but Belle could be a force to be reckoned with when she wanted to and so she walked up to the Big Boss with not a hint of fear in her and, rather loudly, demanded she kept Dr Whale in line, detailing his sadistic behaviour towards the human she'd put under his care. She swore up and down she'd report Whale and her to whatever human rights agency and international entity would hear her. It was then that the good doctor himself barged in, a frantic Sydney in tow, loudly demanding to know who had been messing with his "subject". He certainly wasn't expecting to be yelled at by a 5'2 irate Australian in response, looking ready to both inflict physical pain and bury him in lawsuits.

Word of the scuffle spread like wildfire around the camp as the battle raged on in Regina's office. At some point Belle could have sworn she'd seen Sydney sway, ready to pass out, before Regina herself demanded silence and then loudly declared that she wanted to see what all the fuss was about. It was a rare sight to see the Big Boss amongst the simple peasants so everyone stayed out of the way as she marched to Whale's lab, the doctor and Belle following close behind. The first look at the man's room had her frowning and Belle bit back an objection when she had two of Gaston's men dragged the creature outside and immobilize it so she could see up close the state he was in. Whale attempted to explain his actions, though it was clear the boss wasn't interested in whatever he had to say. Then she strolled back to the plantation and, according to the rumour mill, spent the next two hours yelling at her attorneys over the phone.

At the end of the day a deceptively sweet Ms Mills approached Belle while she was checking an antelope's leg, bringing with her some fresh clothes, the promise of a bump in her funding and a big piece of news: apparently it was decided that the... man should be under Belle's care.

"Surely someone who takes such an interest in his well-being is exactly the right person to look after that... poor, wretched soul. I have faith in you, Dr French."

It certainly didn't look like it but Belle accepted the clothes with all the grace she could muster, noticing the softness of the fabrics, and once almost everyone had retired marched to Whale's lab, glad to see the doctor himself hadn't lingered, waiting for her. Inside his awful room the creature trembled like a leaf, upset no doubt by the earlier rough-handling. He perked up when he noticed her, though he kept his distance when she entered his room. It took two pears and an apple to get him close enough to take one of his hand in hers. When he didn't pull away she tugged him up and slowly, step by step, they walked out of his cage and out of Whale's little kingdom. It was endearing the way he looked around, both scared and in awe, and how he clutched her hand tighter, trusting her to protect him.

She took him to the metal tub used for washing clothing, safely tucked away in one of their tented spaces, and moved to untie the strings that held his garments together. As soon as he noticed he could remove his clothing he did so at once, making a pleased little sound when he was finally naked. Belle, on the other hand, squeaked in surprise and tried to busy herself filling the tub with water. It was incongruous to her that a man so shy should be so comfortable while naked though, of course, it made perfect sense for a person who'd never worn clothes till some days ago.

Getting him inside the tub wasn't very difficult, though he didn't appreciate it much when she wetted his hair. As gently as she could she lathered his body, watching the water turn murky as his skin became clean. He protested only when the soap and water made his cuts sting and once when he got soap in his eyes, hissing and rubbing his eyes raw. He went oddly still when she washed his hair, his whole body relaxing as her fingers delved into his long locks, trying to undo the many tangles. She rinsed him as carefully as possible and hastily wrapped a towel around his waist when he got out of the tub. The terrycloth was soft so he didn't protest it, though he certainly didn't seem to understand the need for it. While she allowed the rest of his body to dry off on its own- the night was balmy for once- she grabbed one of her widest combs and gingerly began to run it through his hair. At first it was an uncomfortable experience and he wiggled and tried to escape the contraption that tugged on his hair mercilessly, making grunting noises to properly convey how upset he was. Once the tangles were mostly out, however, he began to make other sort of noises akin to purring, almost close to speaking. It almost sounded like he was saying "rum" and, for lack of anything else to call him, Belle decided that Rum was as good a name as any. He certainly seemed happy when she said it out loud.

Getting him back into clothes was more of a problem, but as soon as Rum realized the new clothes weren't stiff as his other ones he let himself be dressed with little fuss. The sheer softness of the fabrics appeared to amaze him, making him more compliant. Once dressed, cleaned and with combed hair he looked a far cry from the frightened creature inside Whale's lab. Standing upright he was a bit taller than Belle and appeared to be in his thirties or forties, she couldn't really tell. Though he was far too skinny and a bit worse for wear he had stunning eyes, deep brown and captivating for some reason. He was also starved for touch, as evidenced by the way he took her hand the moment he was dressed and combed, apparently happy to hold onto her no matter where she was going.

Sleeping arrangements suddenly became a priority. He clearly couldn't be left alone, there was no room for him and she needed to keep an eye on him at least till her got familiar with everything. Taking some of the bedding that was provided for the animals along with some pelts and whatever else she could find- not an easy feat when Rum insisted on holding her hand- and dropped them all in a heap near her bed, gently encouraging Rum to arrange him to his liking. Once he caught on to the fact that they were for him he proceeded to make a nest with them, his movements quick and sure. She admired the finished product before letting go of Rum to change into her sleepwear- a breezy cotton nightgown- in the communal showers, since there was no way to gain privacy in her now-shared little hut. Thankfully when she returned Rum was still there, studying the closed space and looking a little distressed, though he settled down when he saw her. When she laid down on the bed he copied her, settling in his cosy nest with a happy rumble of approval, wiggling around to bask in the comfort of it. Belle giggled, watching him curl up and slowly drift off to sleep.

Surprisingly he made no move to get up and out of his little nest before Belle woke up. After a distressing ten minutes in which she left him alone to change they headed out to face the day. To her staff's credit they didn't react to Rum's presence, keeping a respectful distance, avoiding loud noises and making no comment on the way the man clung to Belle's hand with both of his, eyeing them with mistrust. Belle introduced Rum to her people, explaining a condensed version of the situation and hoping everyone would try and chip in to make the new addition as comfortable as possible. Ariel, all exuberance and curiosity, still knew to approach the subject slowly and carefully, using all of her knowledge regarding wild animals. Rum, now out of his creepy cage, bathed and no longer starving, was less skittish, though he got nervous around a vast number of people. Graham offered to take him to the bathroom, hoping he'd learn to use the facilities copying his movements, for which Belle was grateful. As a gentle soul Graham had a soft touch with anything even remotely defenceless and gave off a calm vibe that appeared to put Rum at ease somewhat. As soon as they were back, however, he took Belle's hand once more and scooted close to her.

"You're his knight in shining armour!" Ariel cooed happily, completely enamoured with the new addition. Though Belle was prepared to do little to no work that day she found out soon that, though frightened of humans, Rum thrived around animals. He had a way with them, an understanding that far surpassed anything Belle had managed to acquire through study and experience. It was fascinating to watch him with the antelopes or the chimps and even with the odd gorilla or two. The predators he treated with respect and a healthy dose of fear, having no doubt almost been their prey a number of times in his life.

He gave the impression of grasping what it was that they were doing almost at once and observed Belle keenly as she looked after the animals, easily copying her actions. The animals themselves seemed to consider Rum one of their own, remaining calm and pliant as he approached them. Soon every member of her staff was watching in fascination as Rum easily approached an aggressive old gorilla that had previously refused to be handled, easily feeding it.

At the end of the day Ariel sat the man on a stool and instructed Belle to divert his attention as she cut his long mane of hair, marvelling at the softness of it. Though distressed at first soon Rum grew to like the shorter hair, tugging at it and rumbling happily when it easily slipped through his fingers. Though he kept his distance from most of the members of the staff he quickly grew to tolerate and even welcome Graham's company and not to mind Ariel's bubbly chatter and exuberant personality much, though it had frightened him at first.

Graham valiantly offered to welcome Rum in the hut he shared with Lance and two vets, picking up the bedding and pelts that made up Rum's nest and positioning them next to his own bed. In the middle of the night, however, the nest disappeared, only to reappear in the morning right next to Belle's bed, Rum happily curled up inside. It took three more tries for everyone to become convinced that there was no way of moving the man to a more appropriate home. Belle, however, didn't mind much. Aside from having to change outside to indulge her own modesty there weren't any drawbacks to having Rum share her living quarters. He was peaceful and often entertaining, curious when he felt unthreatened and therefore free to explore.

Soon, and with a little patience and care, Rum was flourishing. He adored working with the animals, picking up on ways to properly care for them and teaching the vets and other members of the staff new things. Like Belle he favoured the pygmy chimps too and several times Belle had caught him with four or five of them hanging all over him. Though he didn't seem to approve of the cages he understood, somehow, that the animals weren't being hurt but rather protected.

Belle didn't try to educate him. Rum seemed fine as he was, intelligent and compassionate if a bit frightened and submissive. She did try, from the get-go, to establish some form of communication, using mostly body language and signs and trying to pick up on his physical cues, seeking a rapport. They soon settled on a routine, rising early and having breakfast- Rum adored milk, though she didn't think he'd ever tasted it before- before seeing to the animals. Though at first Rum stuck close to Belle he gradually gained more and more independence as he got comfortable with the rest of the team. He soon learned what part of the compound was "theirs" and which belonged to the violent men who'd dragged him out of the jungle and to the scientists that had almost starved him to death and he steered clear of both.

Around noon they all had lunch together and then they dove back into their chores till late in the afternoon. Rum appeared to quite like the evening time, when it was mostly them and the animals. He'd watch Belle give shots and jot things down, very curious about the art of writing. Afterwards they'd have dinner and then she'd leave him in the hut to shower and change before bed. Twice a week she'd coax him into the tub to bathe. No matter how much she tried he was afraid of the showers and wouldn't go near them. Afterwards they'd go to sleep, comfortable and content.

There were some variations to the routine depending on the day. Some days Graham would seek Rum's help finding an animal in the wild. They looked like they communicated rather well and, though Rum didn't seem fearful in the presence of the younger man, he always returned to Belle's side as soon as possible and held her hand for a while. Human contact fascinated and terrified him in equal measure and as much as Belle wanted to lavish all sort of attentions on him, hugs and caresses and even kisses, she was determined to let him set the pace, seek things out when he was ready.

Though he seemed to grasp the meaning of many words quite quickly- names of fruits and animals and even people- Rum didn't much feel the need to mimic talk, preferring to stick to his grunting and noises. He did enjoy it, however, when on afternoons off Belle would sit by an okoumé tree and read out loud. He'd lay his head in her lap and listed attentively as she petted his hair, enraptured by the cadence of her voice and the rhythmic caresses. Afterwards, sometimes, he'd look at her with a burning curiosity and something else, something Belle couldn't quite decipher.

He was getting used to belonging to a pack, Belle supposed, and not being just by himself, adopting naturally a submissive attitude. He appeared to consider her the leader, his eyes full of awe as he watched her order people about. No matter how obviously stronger Graham and others were he looked as if he felt safe only with her, and it surprised no one when he one day, out of the blue when coming back from a quick exploration of the jungle, Rum happily barked out "Belle!" when spotting her. It became the only word he'd feel compelled to say, sometimes with purpose- to call her attention or to refer to her- and other times merely to sound it out, as if the name was a pleasant sound he liked to make.

With his newfound confidence Rum unveiled a facet of his personality that Belle had never seen before. For all of his subservient nature and his apparent defencelessness Rum was... sneaky. Deceptive. _cunning_. And prone to revenge. Though everyone else was surprised the day Whale woke up red from head to toe and itching, skin soon raw from the scratching, Rum merely smiled, pleased, and snickered whenever he spotted the doctor from afar. It didn't take long for his roommate to discover the vicious variety of poison ivy he'd snuck into the doctor's bedding with no one being the wiser. Belle could see he didn't understand why his actions weren't praised and how pained he was that she was angry with him but as fun as seeing Whale scratch for days on end was Belle didn't much like the glint in Rum's eyes, or the malicious smile that bloomed on his lips. In the end, however, she relented and he happily snuggled into her embrace, relieved she once more liked him. It broke her heart to see how devoted he was.

At first it was deemed dangerous to expose him to anything outside the compound but soon it was obvious that Rum's ability to adapt his behaviour to different social situations meant he could be safely escorted to town. The idea of showing him something beyond what he'd always known appealed to Belle and so she allowed Graham to take him out to town on the day half her staff was on leave. They all swore up and down that they'd look after him. The men had taken Rum under their wing while simultaneously learning quite a lot from him and Belle felt little worry when she granted her permission.

Later, when a wide-eyed, staggering Rum was returned to her at dawn, she reconsidered her earlier assessment. He practically fell into her arms, looking disoriented till he sniffed her neck and rumbled happily, the familiar scent of her putting him at ease. Graham, looking incredibly boyish for a grown man with a beard, muttered something about "the guys" wishing Rum to experience the pleasure of a cold beer... or three. When his boss practically leapt at him, demanding why he hadn't thought to stop such nonsense, he explained that Emma had been on leave as well and they'd... gotten carried away on a secluded area of the bar they'd gone to. Emma Swan, UN peacekeeper and Graham's... everything, didn't often get leave at all, making the Irishman's position more understandable.

She took care of Rum when he eventually threw up and nursed him when his head hurt and his stomach roiled. Strangely enough the outing didn't seem to have any negative consequences. If anything Rum appeared to be more... animated, or at least somehow happier and the men seemed to consider him more relatable after having gotten drunk. They grew closer as worked progressed, more smoothly now than ever. Rum began to adopt new rituals with time. He took to brushing her hair at night, with painstaking care, using both her brush and his fingers. It appeared to soothe him and make him strangely content and Belle had to admit his fingers in her hair left her scalp tingling pleasantly.

Later on Belle started noticing that their shared hut became neater. She caught Rum filling cups and other containers with wildflowers and decorating in other small, endearing ways. He was quite crafty and would turn simple, commonplace items into intricate ornaments, placing them around the hut with care. He also acquired the strange habit of bringing exotic fruits from deep within the jungle along with orchids whenever he'd venture outside the compound with Graham. He'd carefully weave the flowers into Belle's hair before offering her the fruits and she'd accept with a smile and a tentative kiss on the cheek. Before kisses had left Rum perplexed and a bit shy but now he seemed to welcome them with pleasure.

When his beard grew back he insisted on having it shaved, scratching at it and tugging to get his point across. Graham patiently showed him how to groom himself, taking care to use a dull razor at first to minimize accidental nicks. Belle didn't think much of it, though privately she admitted to herself that she liked Rum's face shaved. It was Ariel the one to point out that all the new little quirks added up to something.

"The grooming, the offering of gifts, the cleaning and decorating of the hut... Come on, Belle, do I need to spell it out? Those are classic stages of a mating ritual."


	2. Chapter 2

_"The grooming, the offering of gifts, the cleaning and decorating of the hut... Come on, Belle, do I need to spell it out? Those are classic stages of a mating ritual."_

Belle almost spat the ice tea she'd been drinking all over Ariel, but at the last minute managed to gulp it down.

"Don't be ridiculous, Ariel! And don't let anyone catch you saying that. Rumours spread around here faster than bushfires. Honestly."

The redhead huffed, affronted that her theory was being dismissed so unceremoniously.

"Deny it all you want but it's practically a case study. He grooms you, for crying out loud! Decorates your nest, brings you gifts... It's his way of being romantic, copying what he's seen the animals do all his life. Personally I think it's adorable."

Belle stabbed one of the last remaining apple slices in her fruit salad, unwilling to have such a discussion with her assistant but, at the same time, needing to.

"He may know about sex by watching other species but it's a great leap to imagine he... sees me that way. He's been with us for weeks and I have yet to see in him any interest in sex at all, or something that would lead me to think he knows the difference between female and male humans."

Her companion giggled and briefly the Australian wondered if she'd managed to get her hands on some alcohol, a precious commodity in the compound. She leaned in close and, after making her swear not to kill Graham, told a very surprised Belle that, apparently, when the men had taken Rum out and gotten him drunk he'd stumbled into Graham and Emma having sex.

"Graham swears he has no idea how much he saw before he discovered him standing by the partly-open door, wide-eyed and looking like he'd finally understood how the universe worked. And these changes all started after he got back from that outing, right?" Ariel looked like the cat that ate the canary, the smuggest Belle had ever seen her. "Clearly Graham's little display cleared a few doubts for him and immediately after he started the courting process. Personally I think it's very romantic and you should totally pounce on him the first chance you get. He's a great guy."

She waltzed out of the dining area before Belle could properly chastise her. Once the idea was in her head, however, it was impossible to shake off, no matter how silly she thought it. She's managed to mostly forget it a week later when something cold pressing against her calf woke her up in the night. Outside it was raining and the temperature had dropped considerably. She felt the touch again as well as a dip in the mattress. It took her a while to figure out what it was, until she felt cold but familiar hands wrap themselves around her legs. She didn't panic, the touch was gentle, almost reverent and she knew for a fact Rum would never hurt her in any way. She giggled when she felt his cold nose press against the back of her left leg but soon settled when he finished wiggling around and curled up at her feet, covered by the blankets with his nose peeking out so he could breathe properly. She didn't think much of it. It was cold and the bed was warmer and far more pleasant than the floor.

When it happened again the next night, and the night after that, she didn't know what to make of it. Ariel's words put ideas into her head but nothing inappropriate was ever attempted. Rum just seemed to want to... cuddle. At first at her feet but, soon enough, he started to curl up next to her, pressing his back against her front and making soft little rumbling noises when she reached out to stroke his hair or wrap her arm around his middle. She pushed her suspicions aside, chastising herself. Rum was starved for touch, for affection. It was no surprise that he sought it during the night as he did during the day. Her bed soon became their bed, Rum even arranging some of his pelts over them when a cold wind blew in. He watched her carefully as she straightened the sheets out in the mornings and soon enough took over the small task.

Nothing changed other than that for a few days. Rum continued to decorate the hut almost daily with flowers and to gift her with ripe fruit whenever he could. He also took a long time brushing her hair, the task seeming to calm him. It had the same effect on Belle who, after a long day full to the brim with problems and setbacks, enjoyed sitting down on the bed and having Rum ran a brush and occasionally his fingers through her hair. Sometimes, of the day had been particularly stressful, she'd all but fall asleep against him. He didn't seem to mind, sniffing her neck when she leaned against him, finding the scent of her body lotion fascinating.

That night, after one of the longest days Belle had ever had, she all but dragged Rum to the bed, handing him the brush and sitting down in preparation for their little ritual. He complied immediately, as eager as she was. He brushed her hair with utmost care, like it was spun gold in his hands. At some point he dropped the brush altogether, choosing simply to use his fingers. Soon enough his touch lulled her into a state between awake and asleep and when she almost tipped forward and off the bed he encouraged her to lean back against him, making a sound she knew to be of concern. She settled happily against him and was about to actually fall asleep, unwilling to fight the pull, when she felt Rum's nose brush against the spot where her neck met her left shoulder. He inhaled deeply, giving a lower, throatier version of his pleased rumble. His hands left her hair to settle around her waist and, a moment later, his tongue rasped over her neck, slow and purposeful.

She froze at first, unsure. Common sense told her to move, to get out of the bed and let Rum know, as gently as possible, that licking someone wasn't appropriate. Maybe he didn't know, maybe he was just trying to be nice, or to comfort her after a difficult day, or-

He licked her again, unhurried and meticulous, his hands tightening around her waist and his breathing growing ragged. Belle sighed, turning her head to the side to give him better access. With her tacit permission he continued to lave her shoulder and throat, his teeth sliding reverently against her skin, touching but never biting. He made no movement to undress her or get her to lie down and after a while he stopped, pressing his lips to her neck in a kiss. It was the first time he'd ever kissed someone, to Belle's knowledge.

After that night he didn't lick her neck again and she didn't know whether to be relieved or upset. Everything seemed to be becoming more and more confusing the more time she spent with him and a part of her welcomed such confusion, such a mystery to uncover. She was happy to see he was gaining more and more independence each week, sometimes spending the entire day away from her, though each night he curled up in bed next to her, happily. Nothing but sleeping ever happened and it was that, more than anything else, what convinced her Ariel's silly ideas were just that.

She tried not to think any more about it while she showered. It was a credit to Miss Mills, she had to acknowledge, that the shower stalls were as modern and efficient as possible and that there was always abundant water. She suspected it had more to do with Regina's love of cleanliness than it had with generosity, but she appreciated it nevertheless.

Thankfully the stalls were both located a ways away from the rest of the compound and by the time Belle got to them there was no one around, other people always retiring before her. She liked it best that way, a bit of time to herself. It was quiet and peaceful the way it never was at any other time of the day, only the cicadas- a local pest- making any noise at all. For a moment she just stood under the spray, letting the superficial layers of grime and dust wash off her hair and body, sighing happily. She reached out blindly for the shampoo somewhere to her left and was startled to find something soft blocking her way. Opening her eyes she saw Rum staring at her, a bit wary of the enclosed space. The shower itself didn't appeal to him at all and so he always steered clear of it. Now, however, he seemed to have either gotten over his fear or experienced a bout of bravery.

He was also naked.

The sight wasn't as shocking to Belle as it had been months ago when she'd first bathed him. Rum still felt no shyness when it came to undressing though he understood that it was not appropriate at all times and liked how his skin was less exposed to the sun during the day. He, however, had never seen her naked and for all she knew- and depending on what kind of sex Emma and Graham had been having that time- this was the first time he saw a woman fully naked. Though she took a step back from him, hitting the wall of the shower, she didn't make a move to cover herself. Rum stared at her as if she was the most fascinating thing in the world, his eyes lingering in a reverent manner on her breasts and sex and far from making her feel dirty or wrong it made her feel... worshipped.

When he finally moved it was to grab the soap, wrestling a bit with it to keep it from slipping from his hands till they were properly coated. He slid them down her arms, at first, lathering them up thoroughly. Then he diverted his attention to her collarbone, running his soapy hands over her upper chest before tentatively cupping her breasts. He grunted half in surprise at their softness and half in approval, a smile twitching on the edge of his lips as he explored further. He was careful and tender, his hands kneading and stroking, familiarizing themselves with her. He found her nipples specially fascinating and circled them with his thumbs before dropping his hands lower, lathering the rest of her torso before bending down to clean her legs. Once she was completely soaped up he nudged her towards the spray of water, watching as the soap washed away.

His eyes strayed to the patch of curls that hid her sex from him and, perplexed, nuzzled the apex of her thighs, a pleased rumble emanating from him the moment the scent of her arousal hit his nose. He kept pressing his nose against her as he slowly straightened and Belle realized with a jolt that she could feel something hard and warm sliding up her leg and finally coming to rest against her stomach. Rum didn't seem to realize of care that he was hard, more focused on washing her hair.

When he was done he didn't press any further and, on a whim, Belle washed him too, noticing how happy it made him. Afterwards they changed into their sleeping clothes and Rum brushed her hair thoroughly before bed, nipping at her neck in a shy but playful manner, smiling. He was pleased by how she was responding to his attentions, and Belle envied him. All she felt was confused and... guilty. After all Rum had very little experience with his kin and he'd latched onto her the moment she'd taken him away from Whale. He was likely confusing gratitude and perhaps admiration for something else.

Anxious and lost she decided, after some careful consideration, to confide in Ariel. To her credit the redhead knew when to be serious and helpful and she was never, ever judgemental. Ariel was the most open person Belle had ever met, innocent and encouraging.

"You totally have to do him."

And tactless.

"Ariel! You can't just... It's not that straightforward."

Her assistant rolled her eyes, toning down her bubbly personality to get her point across.

"I've never met two people more in tune with each other. No one can communicate with Rum like you can. It's like you read his mind and he yours, it'd be freaky if it wasn't so adorably romantic. Besides I've know you for a while and I've never seen you interested in a man before. I mean really interested, intrigued. But Rum... he fascinates you. He's your mystery, Belle, and you need to uncover it. Him. As in, take his clothes off and such."

Before, whenever they'd had one of those chats, it had always been Belle dispensing the advice and being supportive. She was used to it, comfortable being the shoulder to cry on, the touchstone for others. Confiding in others, and being open to their input, didn't come naturally for her.

"But... don't you think it'd be taking advantage of him? He sees me as his leader, his... his alpha and in so many ways he's so... so innocent. Like... like a child."

It was then that Ariel hit her on the shoulder. For a small, sweet-natured girl she packed quite a punch.

"Don't be unfair to him. Rum is a grown male, quite a bit older than you, I'll wager, and perfectly capable of thinking and deciding for himself. He might not know how to talk but that doesn't mean he is less smart or less able to give consent. Whatever you do or don't do with him is not taking advantage if he wants it and lets you know."

Whatever Belle was about to reply was forgotten a second later when a scream cut through the air. Both women jumped to their feet, pushing away their dinner trays and hurrying over to where the scream had come from. At some point Graham caught up with them, blocking their way. A second or two later they heard gunshots.

"What the hell is going on?"

Belle struggled vainly to get past Graham but the man was taller and stronger than her and easily overpowered her.

"It's not a good idea to go there, Belle. One of the jackals got out, the mean one. It... it attacked Gaston. He's fine but I guess they had to put the jackal down."

Belle closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. That particular animal had been giving them trouble for days but she'd almost secured him a new home. She felt tears of frustration well in her eyes and angrily wiped them off, pushing Graham aside to try and do some damage control. Gaston had, as of late, been circling her more than usual, which meant he was on her side of the compound a lot more. Maybe he'd teased the caged jackal one too many times. She knew he had no tact for animals.

Once she got close enough she could see Gaston limping to Whale's side of the camp, aided by two of his men. He was shouting to whoever could hear him that his scratches better heal before his cousin's wedding. Off to the side she saw Rum, staring at Gaston with his eyes narrowed. They really didn't like each other, particularly when the former marine insisted on intruding on Rum and her alone time during meals or other times. He used the subtle threat of violence to push the other man aside and make it clear there was nothing he could do to stop him. Rum always looked both ashamed and angered at this and as much as Belle tried to make it clear whose company she preferred it was still problematic.

She tried to smile at him, thinking that perhaps the commotion had him scared but he was grinning, all smug and pleased as he looked at the retreated former marine and then at the corpse of the jackal. She remembered, fleetingly, that it had almost bitten him one time. How convenient, really, for it to have escaped and chased Gaston. Two birds with one stone.

She didn't know how she was completely sure of what had transpired but there wasn't a doubt in her mind that Rum had let the jackal loose on Gaston and the knowledge made her dizzy. She didn't know how to reconcile the sweet man who brushed her hair and treated the animals with the utmost care with the person a few feet from her, incredibly happy to have gotten a jackal killed and a man maimed. No matter how much Gaston was exaggerating the extent of his injuries, thank God, it didn't mean it could be easily dismissed.

She tended to the problem at hand, refusing to think on what she had learned. The disposal of the body was an unpleasant process, followed by checking that the rest of the jackals and other large predators, a couple of African golden cats and three civets, were secured. When Graham expressed puzzlement as to how the jackal had escaped, having noticed the cage was intact, only opened, Belle brushed his questions aside. Best that no one knew.

At the end of the day, after managing to grab a bite to it and a quick shower, she stumbled into the hut, no energy left in her to do anything other than fall on the bed. Rum, however, was waiting for her, a brush in his right hand and a smile on his face, eager for their nightly ritual. When he made to sit on the bed, however, Belle pushed him aside. He didn't seem to get the idea, crawling back into the bed till, more firmly, she pushed him off. His face fell, distress and confusion shining in his eyes. He made a small, inquisitive noise and Belle gave him a hard look. It only took saying Gaston's name for understanding to dawn on him, and he stood his ground, not lowering his gaze as she expected. Angry and disappointed she threw his pelts outside and turned her back to him when she lay down on the bed. He'd been stupid and reckless and one of her animals was now dead because of him, he could find another place to sleep.

She slept as poorly as he did and continued to do so for the following days, avoiding Rum as much as she could. It was clear he knew she didn't approve of what she'd done but didn't regret it at all, stubbornly refusing to apologize of feel any sort of contrition. A quick, unpleasant visit to Gaston's tent- the man was a pig- revealed that most of his wailing had been theatrics and that he'd gotten off with a few scratches to the face, all superficial, and a bite on his leg requiring some stitches. The way he told the story, though, he'd practically hand-wrestled a pack of jackals by himself... while blindfolded.

It eased her mind somewhat and a part of her was ready, then and there, to put the whole mess behind her and pretend it'd never happened and that, above all, scared her. She kept him away for fear she'd forgive him just because she missed him. At first whenever she saw him Rum had a defiant look in his eyes, holding onto the belief that he had done absolutely nothing wrong. As days passed, however, he seemed to deflate and look more and more unsure, clearly wanting to approach her and make peace but now knowing how to. Some days later, as she was checking the cages late at night with Graham he confessed to know Rum had let loose the jackal on Gaston.

"He confessed it to me and we had a long talk... Well, in our own way. He's really sorry, boss. He really is."

Graham loved canines above all and for him to be speaking on Rum's behalf meant quite a lot. Belle promised to give the matter some thought, quickly retreating back to her hut to try and get some sleep. She managed to doze off around three in the morning but half an hour later she was startled awake when something cold pressed against her leg. She opened her eyes to see Rum kneeling by her bed, his nose against one of her calves. He lowered his gaze the moment she looked at him, his posture and manners clearly indicating his apologetic state.

"I'm sorry."

His voice, rough and strangely-accented, surprised her. Other than her name she'd never heard him speak, though she had always thought him capable of it. It was that gesture, more than anything else, that swayed her.

"I'm sorry too."

She'd pushed him away instead of confronting him about things, taking the easy way out and it'd been wrong of her. She scooted back on the bed and he eagerly crawled into the vacated spot, curling up and pressing his back against her front. She slipped her arms around his waist, splaying her hands across his cotton-covered chest and inhaled deeply, taking in his scent. She'd missed him terribly, and the notion frightened and thrilled her at the same time.

They re-established their normal routine with little fuss. To any newbie Rum seemed like any other member of Belle's crew: tanned, with corded bracelets on his wrists- many of them handmade- an array of t-shirts and pants appropriate for the weather, a ring- a gift from Ariel to "help with the primping", according to her- and a pair of aviator glasses when the sun got to be too much. He was very much on demand during the day, his unique expertise widely sought-out, but at the end of the day he always made sure to have dinner with Belle and help her check on the animals and installations one last time.

This pattern was occasionally disrupted by an outing to the city or some other event. Belle wasn't sure whose idea was to organize an impromptu party but as the superior in charge she couldn't bring herself to care. She barely fought Ariel when she whisked her away to wash the grime off and dress up a bit. It was nice to slip on a nice salmon-coloured sundress and nude, kitten-heeled sandals, apply a bit of make-up and wear one too many bracelets for a change. She let the red-head pull her hair halfway back and secure it with a barrette and tried not to laugh at the monstrosity Ariel attached to her wrist.

"I made it myself years ago with stuff I found on the beach. I used to think it was the height of fashion. Shut up, it's not that bad!"

By the time they arrived to the dining area the tables had been moved, a fire started and someone had gotten hold of a stereo. Some of the men had done a beer run sometime during the day and, though lukewarm, it was the best thing Belle had drank in a while. It didn't take long for people to start dancing, the alcohol taking care of everyone's inhibitions. It was a nice change of pace and a nice way to escape the worries of the last few months and just let go.

She didn't see him at first, the throng of dancers making it difficult. But when she moved closer to the edge of the "dance floor" she spotted Rum looking at the moving crowd, his head tilted to the side. He seemed utterly fascinated by the spectacle. He started moving his head to the sound of the music, watching on to the appeal of the beat. Watching him dance for the first time was a highly entertaining experience. He seemed adept at mimicking people and, thankfully, at discerning who was dancing to the rhythm and who wasn't. Soon enough he was edging towards the group of dancers, his movements tentative but there.

Following a whim Belle grasped his hands and hauled him close to her, placing her hands on his shoulders to guide him. He seemed ecstatic, curling his hands around her hips and following her lead. They danced for what seemed like hours, pausing only to drink and catch their breath. Belle tried hard to ignore Ariel's enthusiastic "go at 'im" gestures, glad that Rum seemed none the wiser. He kept his arm around her waist at all times, looking around as if to make sure people would see. Ariel would make a comment about him being pleased she'd publicly staked her claim on him, choosing him amongst all the males as her potential mate, but Belle tried not to dwell on it. She was having the time of her life and Rum smelt so good and danced so well with her...

It was close to two in the morning when Rum bowed out of the party but Belle stayed another half hour, mainly trying to sober up and make sure Ariel didn't stumble too close to the fire on her unsteady legs. When her head finally cleared she walked to her hut, opening the door to find the interior illuminated by candles. There were flowers in almost every surface of the room, their heady scent lingering in the air, and little ornaments hanging from the ceiling. Rum was in the centre of the room, looking at her in a way that made her heart jump to her throat. There was no way of denying Ariel's claims now, not the way he was staring at her. Slowly he lifted a hand towards her, palm up. An offering, an invitation. A part of her wanted to turn around and pretend she'd never been there, or refuse Rum in the gentlest of terms. Instead she found herself moving forward, summoning all her bravery to cup his face in her hand and bring it down so she could capture his lips with hers, effectively giving her consent.

The kiss appeared to have caught him off-guard but Belle was patient, showing him what to do, how to move. She tilted her head to the side to get a better angle and was rewarded with a low, guttural moan from her partner, who seemed to have trouble deciding where to put his hands. Finally she took pity on him and directed them to her waist, pleased when he immediately crushed her to him, rumbling in approval. She licked his lips, slowly and carefully and did so again when he didn't immediately opened up to her. When he still didn't seem to get the point she dragged her fingernails leisurely across his scalp, feeling him shudder and moan in pleasure. Taking advantage she slipped her tongue inside his mouth, amused when his own tongue retreated at first, spooked. Slowly she traced the roof of his mouth and teased the back of his teeth and the edge of his lips till he caught on, mimicking her actions eagerly. She groaned in encouragement, feeling his fingers dig into her hips before his hands went lower, grasping the hemline of her dress and tugging upwards. She lifted her arms to help him undress her, for once in her life not ashamed of her plain cotton underwear. Rum looked at her like she was a goddess, an apparition. Wishing to be on even ground Belle reached out to take off his soft grey t-shirt and pants, noticing his feet were bare and he had no underwear. Though she had seen him naked more times that she could count this time it seemed... different. She allowed herself to look, noticing how he'd filled out over the past months. He had an ample array of scars and some recent bruises from his work but he was lean and sinewy, his arms and legs speaking of strength. He had the barest hint of a stubble on his face and he'd taken the trouble to brush his hair back. To Belle he seemed... perfect.

She must have said it aloud because he smiled, wide and besotted and reached out to kiss her, clumsy but enthusiastic. He growled against her mouth, hands sinking into her hair, thumbs caressing the back of her neck. He was frantic and tentative at the same time, his lust tempered by his inexperience which, in turn, made him more tender. He dragged his lips from hers and kissed her throat, fascinated by the spot where her neck met her shoulder. He pressed his nose to it, inhaling deeply and sighing when her scent reached him. He licked the skin thoroughly, his hands pressing against her back to plaster himself to her front. He seemed to be waiting for some sort of signal and, on a whim, Belle tugged on his hair, hard. An inhuman noise came out of his throat before he sunk his teeth into her, keeping the pressure just right to be a mix of pleasure and pain. She arched against him as much as she could, the muscles of her stomach tightening in response.

"Rum..."

She slurred his name, turning it into a rumble that Rum promptly answered. He tended to the mark he'd made on her skin with care before dropping to his knees to help her out of her sandals. She took the opportunity to discard her bra, imagining Rum whimpering over how to unhook it at all, and startled when she felt him press his nose against her sex, encountering the barrier of her panties. Slowly, deliberately, he tugged her underwear down, sliding it down her legs and helping her step out of them before returning to nuzzling her sex, curling his hands on the back of her upper thighs, gently scratching with his blunt nails. After what seemed like forever he kissed his way up, nipping at random parts of her torso and dragging his tongue along the strip of skin between her breasts, humming at the slightly salty taste of her.

He gently pushed her backwards, manoeuvring till she stepped on a pile of furs, blankets and, apparently, her mattress. Rum had dragged it and her bedding to the centre of the room, piling everything else on top to create a nest half his and half hers. She gladly allowed him to pull her down so she was sitting down, her legs open to allow him to kneel in front of her. He tipped her back slightly and scraped his teeth across her collarbone, licking the reddened skin before moving to the next spot. When he reached her breast she was panting with anticipation, her nerve-endings on fire as he closed his mouth around her right nipple, suckling earnestly. He closed his eyes, making a sound as akin to a purr as a human could and Belle cradled his head in her hands, petting his hair. She tugged on a lock to let him know it was alright to be rougher and almost instantly felt his teeth scraping against her hardened nipple and his thumb and forefinger pinching the other one. She cried out, dragging her nails down his nape and living red welts across his back. He released her breast to howl, appreciative of her initiative to mark him.

With renewed vigour he attacked her other breast, his hands kneading the sides of her upper thighs and waist, exploring the softness he'd been admiring for months. He wanted to sink into her, to devour her and be cradled inside her at the same time. He gently pushed her till she was lying down, sniffing her all over, scenting her arousal. He followed the trail to her sex, hands gently settling on her inner thighs and kneading almost in a cat-like manner. He touched the tip of his nose to her curls and made a rumbly noise of approval before turning his head and rubbing his cheek against them several times. Finally he explored further, following the heady scent and lapping experimentally with his tongue. He moaned deep in his throat when he tasted her, the slightly tangy and sweet taste flooding his mouth, making him eager for more. He licked her like he was starving, his tongue sliding against the sides of her clit, trying to match the rhythm of Belle's instinctual hip thrusts. She keened whenever he hit a particularly sensitive spot, resting her legs against his shoulders to be able to pull him closer, touch more of him.

Never had a man been so enthusiastic about oral sex before, at least in Belle's experience. Usually it was treated as a necessary chore, as foreplay or a favour. Rum, on the contrary, made it seem like he was the one getting the most enjoyment out of it, his curiosity and the deep instincts triggered by her smell making him a keen participant. Though he couldn't reach her breasts from his position he let his fingernails scrape across her torso, applying just enough pressure to leave a red trail that vanished seconds later. The mixture of sensations had her squirming, caught between pleading him to stop and begging him to keep going forever. Her breathing grew rapid and shallow and he seemed to perk up at that, his tongue seeking every spot that had made her yelp and gasp until she blindly reached out to him, fisting her hands in his hair and practically yanking when her orgasm hit her.

She had to pull him away from her overly sensitive sex a moment later, Rum whining in protest of all the wetness he wasn't drinking down like he wanted to. She petted his hair in apology, tugging him towards her for a kiss. He was quick to gain access inside her mouth, copying what she'd done to him earlier and tracing the back of her teeth. Feeling his body all by vibrating with tension she began to stroke his shoulders and then arms, moving then to his back. He shuddered when her hands ghosted over the scratches she'd made earlier, whimpering a bit when she continued downwards. She sneaked her hands between his torso and hers and trailed down to find his erection, wrapping her fingers around it and just cradling it for a moment. He froze above her, his eyes feral and a bit uncertain, so Belle gently scratched his belly with her free hand and squeezed him tighter with the other one. Slowly he began to relax, lowering his head to nudge her cheek with his nose so she tilted her head slightly, baring the unmarked side of her throat to him. He nibbled at her skin and licked her thoroughly, managing to hold back the urge to bite till she started pumping him. The sensation of his teeth on her neck travelled down her spine, nerve-endings tingling and causing her to arch beneath him, keening.

Suddenly he got off her, his hands going around her waist and urging her to her knees. He positioned her in all fours, pausing to stroke her back briefly before his hand was cupping her sex, fingers exploring clumsily for an opening. As much as Belle wanted to help him he looked determined to succeed on his own and so she braced herself, missing their previous position but letting him set the pace. When he sunk into her it wasn't the hard slam she'd been waiting for but rather slow and careful, almost timid. When he was finally buried inside her he stilled, draping himself across her back and placing his hands above hers on the mattress. He gave an experimental thrust, moving her hair away from her nape so he could lick her there, seeming to find the action soothing and reassuring. He moved again, slowly building a rhythm marked by his and Belle's grunts. He sunk his teeth into her nape as his movements became rougher, harder and Belle felt the tension inside her build up again, going from a simmering heat to an uncomfortable burn. She called out his name over and over, hearing him sigh her own name in response, awed and frustrated at the same time. Something seemed to be bothering him, she could feel it in the air around them, in the way he was plastering himself to her and still it wasn't enough.

Following a hunch she stopped her with a hand on his hip and, reluctantly, pushed him away. He made the saddest noise of protest, looking distressed and a bit lost till she turned to lie on her back and pulled him close, grasping his erection and guiding it to her entrance. She wrapped her legs around his waist, cradling him close with her arms and nuzzling his face. She dug her feet into the small of his back to get him to move again and though he couldn't go as deep as he had in the other position this, Belle felt, was more intimate. She could look at him, all wonder and vulnerability and love and could reach out and kiss him. After a few tentative thrusts he smiled against her lips, clearly favouring the new position. He drove as deep as he could into her, his earlier frantic pace gentled by her touch. It was slow and hard, the rhythm wonderful, like it had always been meant to be. She whispered endearments against his ear once he released her mouth, calling him "sweetheart", "darling" and "mine" in a low drawl. He replied with noises akin to a croon, sounds that vibrated against her throat when he pressed his lips to it.

She tightened her grip around his waist when she came, hands going cradling his head and pressing it against her chest as she rode her orgasm, feeling the muscles of her neck, stomach and legs tighten. Rum gently escaped her embrace and bared his neck, his intent clear. Belle held onto his shoulders for support and sunk her teeth into the place where his neck met his shoulder, a thrill running down her spine when he howled, arching his back and thrusting deep inside her as he tumbled over the edge. She held him through it, stroking his back and licking the place she'd bitten, a bit distressed to see the angry red bruise she'd left.

When he moved again it was to wrap himself around her, coming to rest on his side on the mattress. He sniffed every bit of her he could, hands roaming her body to make sure she was alright and. He seemed more interested in her scent than usual, burying his nose against her neck. She could feel him smiling, relaxed and happy and hers, and realized she didn't feel guilty at all. Ariel had been right all along which, of course, would make her insufferable.

They decided by mutual agreement not to tell anyone, wanting to keep it to themselves for a while. Belle knew the issue needed to be handled delicately and, though a part of her knew she should be thinking on how to eventually make things public, the other part was too busy with Rum on the shower stalls to care. He was insatiable and full of boundless curiosity regarding her body and how it could connect with his. He mapped out every spot that made her toes curl when stroked, licked, scratched or bitten and sought new positions and places, never getting enough of her. It made him more talkative, at least around her, and though his sentence structure left something to be desired she was amazed by his grasp of English.

Ariel, she was sure, knew something was up and gave her probing glances whenever she thought Belle wasn't looking. Her days came to be divided in two: the time she was away from Rum, focused on her work and the animals, and the time she was with him, spent in intimacy and laughter. By the time a week had passed, however, she was ready to confide in Ariel, needing her advice on how to proceed. She woke up determined to have a long lunch with her friend and confess everything, dressing in a hurry to see to her duties in spite of Rum's attempts at keeping her undressed. When she got out of the hut she headed towards the dining area. However Ariel herself appeared seemingly out of nowhere and pulled her to a side, looking distressed.

"Gaston saw you with Rum and told Whale, and now that asshole's gone up to the plantation to see Ms Mills. He... he made it sound like you were using Rum as some sort of sex toy, it was disgusting and I totally support beating him behind some bushes."

Her heart dropped to her stomach and she leaned against the nearest surface, feeling like her blood was rushing to her feet. She gave herself a moment to panic, knowing she'd have to keep it together for a long time afterwards and was extremely grateful for the redhead's comfort and support. She kept flinging ideas about what to do with Whale and Gaston, each one bloodier than the last one and, while she waited for Belle to recover.

She managed to pull herself together just in time to see Sydney Glass run towards her, shouting that Ms Mills requested- demanded- her presence in her office. She chose to go alone, pleading with Ariel to find Rum and stay with him. By the time she got to the office Whale was smiling smugly, Regina was fuming and Gaston was looking at her with something close to revulsion. She stood there as the doctor put the most horrible spin on the situation, characterizing Rum as a man-child, highly gullible and incapable of higher thinking who'd been abused by the person who was supposed to be seeing to his welfare. Gaston would pipe up from time to time to confirm the doctor's story, calling Rum a primitive creature- a dumb animal- with no thoughts or will of his own. Belle fought hotly against the lies, outraged on Rum's behalf and deadly afraid of what Ms Mills might do, knowing she was the law in that part of the land.

She pleaded with her boss to let her bring Rum so she'd see how intelligent and mature he was, fighting tears when it became clear that she wasn't going to get her way. She fought still, reminding everyone of the condition Rum had been found in when under Whale's care, arguing that the doctor was simply trying to get his human lab rat back. The tide was against her, however. Whale's side offered a solution while siding with Belle left her with two of the three heads of the project complaining and the possibility of backlash amongst the other members of the staff. Belle's threats to expose Whale's previous behaviour to everyone who'd listen were parried with promises of bringing charges against her for abusing the trust of a charge under her care and, possibly, rape. A veiled mention about cutting her funding was also tossed in there, along with a reminder of all the people who depended on the Australian for a job, not to mention the animals.

By the time the biologist rushed out of the building back to the compound Rum was nowhere to be seen. She found Ariel being comforted by a taciturn Graham and Rum nowhere to be seen. When she marched towards Whale's side of the compound she was quickly barred from the entrance and no amount of cajoling, shouting or the like would get her in. Graham had to pull her out in the end, all but dragging her back to their side of the camp where Ariel waited to offer whatever comfort she could. She dismissed them both, holding it together till she was alone in her room, curled up in Rum's pelts, safe to burst into tears.

Though she allowed herself the time to feel self-pity and cry Belle quickly pushed that aside in favour of action. At first she was convinced it wouldn't be so difficult to get Rum out from under Whale's clutches, not after what he'd done the last time. But, though she walked daily to the plantation and sometimes even got as far as Regina's office, nothing budged. As far as Ms Mills was concerned the problem had been dealt with and it was over. She had little interest in hearing Belle out but it took the threat of severely cutting her funds to keep the biologist from harassing her daily.

Between having to keep up with her work and sleeping poorly Belle felt exhausted at all times. Her entire team missed Rum's expertise and help and they took turns attempting to gain access to Whale's facilities. Graham spent half his time breaking up fights between members of his team and men from Gaston's or Whale's and half the other time throwing the first punch, usually over some crude remark. Sometimes, at night when it was really quiet Belle thought she could hear distant howls, the kind that she remembered from when she'd first met Rum.

Other times she tried to convince herself that there was no way Whale was getting away with any of his previous behaviour regarding Rum. He wouldn't risk displeasing Regina a second time. As days passed with no development she began to cling to the idea, telling herself that Rum was fine, and sooner or later they'd all be forced to see he was an intelligent, well-adapted human being. Ariel, on the surface, seemed to fully support her theory but Belle could see the wheels turning inside her head, something brewing in there.

Belle chose to forgo the trip to the city on her free weekend but was surprised to see her assistant go, looking strangely determined. She came back with a glint in her eyes and a quiet sense of accomplishments. A few days later Belle understood why. She was called to Ms Mills's office, surprised to find Whale and an unknown man in there as well. He was red-headed and shy and didn't seem to be taking to the heat and the sun very well. He was introduced as Archibald Hopper, a psychologist called to assess the mental condition of the man found in the jungle. The fact that Regina looked at the man like he was a bug she wanted to squash reassured Belle. Surely if he was there just to further support her decision she would be much more welcoming. The man was all but shaking whenever Regina looked at him but attempted to stand his ground. Whale, on the other hand, was quick to protest vehemently, blundering through a series of flimsy arguments that fell on deaf ears. Hopper was there to stay and no one was going to get in his way.

Though he spent his first day in Whale's compound, evaluating Rum's condition, he soon began to question other people. He talked to the men who dragged him out of the jungle, the members of Whale's staff that first saw to him and Belle's team, who had known Rum as a colleague and friend. Finally one afternoon he sat Belle down and got her side of the story. Archie, far from what she might have suspected at first, was open-minded and fair, and the sweetest person the Australian had ever met, with a quiet sort of strength that was often overlooked. He listened to her side of the story, jotting down things but never passing judgement. Belle spoke as candidly as possible, holding nothing back.

A week after his arrival they were back in Regina's sterile office. Archie described, in horrific detail, how he had seen Rum being force-fed, since he refused to eat. How desperate he was to escape that he wasn't above suffering injuries in his attempts at escaping, going from great moments of rage to hours and hours of apathy, curled up in a ball and not responding to any stimuli. He understood speech, it was clear, but refused to speak himself, saying only one word.

_Belle._

Though Whale had tried to pass this off as Rum's usual behaviour, therefore reinforcing his posture that he was but a clueless child in the body of a man, incapable of rational thinking, the interviews with members of Belle's team revealed the opposite. They had painted an entirely different picture, describing Rum as a shy, reserved man with a gentle disposition, an exceptional understanding of animals and a lousy tolerance for alcohol who was not only capable of thought but of communication, sometimes easily offended and prone to holding grudges and with the boundless curiosity that characterized a thriving mind. They portrayed his relationship with Dr French as healthy and happy and clearly desired by both individuals and showed real concern about Rum's health and safety under the hands of Whale.

In spite of the doctor's glare and Regina's frown Archie concluded that Rum seemed, after some private interviews and taking into account the testimonies, a rational, capable man with the ability to make his own choices and it was inhumane to keep him in his current condition. He suggested he was returned temporarily to Dr French's care till documentation could be attained for him and he could become truly his own man.

"The man most people have described sounds like a healthy, happy person and I'd like to meet him very much. Whatever Dr Whale's been doing to him seems monstrous, not to mention illegal."

That seemed to be the magic word. Regina ordered Whale to end his little science experiment at once, sparing not a second to hear the blond man's sputtering protests. Archie himself was the one to release Rum, gently a patiently herding him out of Whale's facilities and into the open. He took a moment to assess his surroundings before breaking into a jog, looking around almost franticly.

"Belle!"

She heard him before she saw him, Ariel all but bodily turning her around. A second later a body crashed into her, both tumbling to the floor in a rather graceless heap. The biologist couldn't find it in herself to care, however, not when familiar arms wrapped themselves around her and a nose buried itself in the place where her neck met her shoulder. She cradled him close, stroking his hair as she felt tears well in her eyes. She tried not to notice he seemed a bit thinner and smelt like he hadn't washed in a few days, back into the horrible polyester clothing he hated. It didn't matter at the moment, he was back, licking her neck and calling her name and all was right in the world.

They would've stayed on the floor for hours if Ariel hadn't nudged them with her foot, calling Belle's attention to the blushing psychologist a few feet away. Reluctantly she let go of him long enough for both of them to stand up, after which Graham clapped Rum on the back and Ariel hugged him. The entire team seemed to appear out of thin air, wishing to welcome him back. He bore it well, clinging to Belle's hand but showing no other signs of fear or shyness.

"He looks like he's home."

Archie's quiet remark silenced the rest of Belle's niggling fears. The psychologist stayed for two more weeks, determined to see that Regina put all of her efforts into attaining legal documentation for Rum. It was discovered, after some digging, that his birth name was Rumford Gold, a British citizen placed under the care of two missionary nuns by a neglectful father. The nuns had gone missing while travelling to a long-gone village with the boy around the time he had been six and they had all been declared dead some time later.

"Wow, his name is really Rum. What are the odds?"

Belle looked at Rum from afar, studying the pictures of the two nuns with something akin to nostalgia on his face. Once his citizen papers were finally delivered there would be decisions to make. Her work in Sangala was coming to an end and, though she had thought at first she'd have a hard time finding another placement, it seemed that everyone wanted her. The stories of her success in Sangala and her "secret weapon" had become, somehow, insanely popular in her world and she was now debating between an animal sanctuary in India and a nature reserve in the Maghreb. Graham had found a placement in South Africa, Emma Swann's next destination, apparently, and Ariel had decided to go back home for a while, see the family she'd run away from years ago.

"The nuns must have called him Rum and the sound stuck with him after all those years." Belle tilted her head to the side, studying the self-satisfied way in which the red-head watched Rum. "You know what I truly don't get? What made Regina call in Archie. It was clear she didn't want him here, yet someone seemed to have forced him on her." She gave her friend a penetrating stare. "I think it was you. You did something."

Ariel lowered her gaze and bit her lip. When she looked back up she seemed determined.

"You can't tell anyone this. My last name... is not Benson. It was my mother's maiden name. My real name is Ariel Finnley."

It sounded strangely familiar and when Belle finally placed it she gasped.

"Finnley as in Tristan Finnley, CEO of Atlantis Incorporated? King Triton?"

"He loves that name, you know? I swear the trident motif gets old after a while. But, essentially, yeah, that's daddy. He's a really nice man but... a bit controlling. And I'm his youngest and I look so much like mom... It became a bit stifling, as I grew up. And everywhere I went the name followed. I wanted to do my own thing, to be recognized for my own accomplishments. It wasn't exactly running away but I did break communication with my dad. My sisters always knew where I was but they never told him. But, though he didn't know I was working here I was always acutely aware that Regina Mills's company is part of my dad's business empire so when it became clear there was no other way to get her to reconsider things I called my dad from Mali Baso and he took care of it. He's a good person."

Belle had never suspected a thing. As far as she'd known Ariel was an ordinary person with ordinary problems. Bubbly and optimistic with a true passion for animals. Nothing about her said "spoiled daddy's princess".

"Thank you. Rum and I owe you more than we'll ever be able to repay."

The red-head shook her head, smiling.

"It gave me the perfect excuse to reconnect with daddy. I had been meaning to do so for a long time but pride and fear always got in the way. Now we're going scuba diving in Gansbaai, getting a bit of father-daughter bonding. With sharks!"

Change was definitely in the air, but it was the good kind, bringing about excitement and hope for the future. She looked at Rum tucking away the pictures of the nuns into his breast pocket with care and felt warm and safe. Whatever else happened they'd be together. The mark on her neck was as good as a wedding band and though it'd be nice sometime in the future to get properly married Belle was in no rush.

They had forever.


End file.
